


here

by tidalwavs



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Established Relationship, Feelings, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Post-Time Skip, i still don't know how to tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-05
Updated: 2020-08-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:42:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25729873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tidalwavs/pseuds/tidalwavs
Summary: It was always easy to talk about the things that happened in their past. It was the most natural conversation for them.'We don’t need memories'is probably something opposed to their ever nostalgic minds. Their past memories felt like it will never overwrite the memory of their constant, unceasingly and distant present.
Relationships: Miya Osamu/Suna Rintarou
Comments: 4
Kudos: 87





	here

**Author's Note:**

> not beta read as always so sorry if there were overlooked mistakes. i hope you enjoy reading this <3

Osamu looks at Suna and he can’t help but crack into a smile. Osamu tries hard not to but everything about Suna is just endearing. Suna frowns hard, his eyebrows meet each other, making creases on his forehead, his eyes are closed and his lips are formed into an uncomfortable expression. 

“Stop laughing.” Suna says with his eyes still closed.

His fingers are pinching the space between his eyebrows, an attempt to make his nausea go away. “I am not laughing.” he told him.

Suna opens his eyes and just stares at the seat in front of him. Blink.

“What?”

“I hate airplanes.”

And taxis and buses and trains. Suna hates a lot of things and Osamu could probably go on with a list but he keeps the thought to himself. But for a fact, he could agree with Suna on this. They prefer walking more.

It took them two years to get here. Osamu and Suna made a drunken promise to go on this trip that only started a joke, continued as a promise to each other so they could spend time with each other and now fulfilled as an attempt to repair their deteriorating distancing relationship. Well, it is what Osamu is hoping for.

* * *

“Your place? Mine?” Suna asked, his hands were on the pockets of his jacket. Suna’s nose was red and it scrunched up from the cold. He tried to cover it from the high neckline of his track jacket. 

“Tsumu’s at home.” Osamu hinted, a suggestive smile creeping up on his face.

“My place then.” Suna gave in. 

They closed Osamu’s shop moments ago and were walking around the neighborhood. It was almost midnight and the streets were silent except for the buzzing ambient light sounds coming from the street lights. The old familiar moon hung above their heads, the first quarter, illuminating the familiar way home. 

“How was training?” he asked. 

“Nope. How was the shop’s opening earlier?” Suna insisted. 

“Tsumu popped the champagne, the cork flew and hit Aran’s forehead. Kita-san was also there.” Osamu narrated the events from the shop earlier that day.

“Sounds normal then.” Suna said with a contented look on his face. 

Osamu misses the  _ normal _ . The days with Suna and the days without Suna but with the reassurance that they would see each other again the soonest. He misses the walks. He misses  _ this _ , going to each other’s houses, just some walking distance away. He had to come to terms with the fact that he hates trains and buses as of the time when the two of them got separated for their professional endeavors. 

“Look it’s ya.” Osamu suddenly stopped his tracks, Suna bumped into Osamu's back from walking. 

“Come on, say hello.” Before Suna could even complain, Osamu pointed at the waiting shed in front of them. Low and behold, an embarrassing poster from one of EJP’s photo op endorsing an energy drink. Suna shot him an annoyed look and Osamu laughed at him. Osamu waved his hand at the poster and greeted it with a  _ ‘hello’ _ .

“Come on.” he encouraged. Suna turned around, pulled out his hand on the pocket of his jacket and gave the photo of himself a small wave, an embarrassed but also a fond smile, forming on his lips. 

“Sorry I couldn’t make it in time earlier.” Suna apologized out of nowhere.

“You’re here now though.”

* * *

“Hello.” Osamu greets Suna who just woke up from his sleep.

Suna looks up from Osamu’s shoulder to meet his eyes. Blinks. “Where are we?” he asks. 

“Still here.” 

“Oh wait,” the realization finally dawns at Suna, “we’re on air.” Suna rolls his eyes and proceeds to sleep again, snuggling at Osamu’s shoulder.

“I hope the hotels there don’t look like hotels in Japan.” he mumbles before sleeping for another half an hour again.

_ But anywhere is good with you. _

* * *

Osamu woke up when he heard the door click. He rolled over the bed and found the space next to him still warm but empty. He sat up and scanned the room still heavy-eyed. He fixed his gaze at the luggages and discarded clothes on the floor.  _ Still here _ , the thought crossed his mind. He stretched his body like a cat and grunted. He dropped down again at the bed and stared at the ceiling.

“Rin?” he called out, as if he’s talking at the modern looking unlit ceiling lights.

“Taking a bath!” Suna’s voice echoed from the bathroom. 

Osamu forced himself to get up. He bent down to pick the discarded shorts on the floor and wore them. He also picked up Suna’s shirt but a thin streak of sunlight peeked through the heavy curtains and greeted his face. Osamu stood up and walked close to the big window, he pulled a string that made the curtain reveal the soft looking skyline. Morning light poured into the too-big-for-them hotel room. Kyoto basked in muted colors of sky blue to gold. He sat on the ledge looking out at the big buildings. The sun has gone up. Below, he watched the cars going to places. 

A ringtone interrupted. Osamu went back to the bed and shuffled the blankets to look for the phone that has been ringing for some time already. With desperation, he finally threw the pillows away, landing at the floor. He found his and Suna’s phone, the latter buzzing with a phone call. Osamu hesitated and crossed the room in a couple of strides. 

“Rin.” he knocked on the bathroom’s door. “Phone call.”

“Come in.” 

Osamu turned the door knob and found Suna on the bathtub, basking in afterglow, his head thrown back against the bathtub’s rim. Suna tilted his head to meet Osamu’s gaze and waved his hand. He gave him a smile and greeted him with a ‘hello’. 

“From Komori.” Osamu announced and handed the cellphone to Suna. Osamu turned his back to return to the room but Suna grabbed his wrist.

_ Stay _ , Suna silently mouthed. 

“Komori?” Suna answered the phone. “Yeah, I didn’t forget. You don’t have to remind me.” 

Osamu stared at the mirror in front of him and studied his reflection.  _ This is gonna be hard to hide _ , he thought. He touched at the bruise on his neck with his free hand. He heard Suna hum in agreement, still talking to Itachiyama’s former libero. He tilted his head and spotted another bite mark just by the shoulder. 

“Yeah I’ll be there. Bye.” Suna ended the call and handed the phone back to Osamu. “Wash my hair?” he asked with the most deadpan pleading eyes.

Osamu got down on his knees and slung his elbow at the tub’s rim because how could he refuse and resist Suna.

“Leavin’ already?” he asked.

“I am leaving but I am always with you.” Suna affectionately poked his nose with a finger. Osamu flinched from the contact, a reminder that love is not always entirely and literally here all the time. “I am always leaving but I won’t let that come between us. Okay?” Suna added as if he was reading Osamu’s mind. 

* * *

“Lemme sleep again.” Suna rests his head on Osamu’s shoulder. 

“Want this?” Osamu passes him a pair of headphones. 

“No thanks.” Suna blinks as he feels Osamu playing with his hair, something they always do like old high school lovers, goes pleased and sleepy-eyed again in seconds.

Osamu looks at Suna who’s already dozing off, probably slipping already in a dream. 

* * *

The colors and lights of Tokyo at night blur by. In the backseat of a taxi, Suna’s head leaned against Osamu’s shoulder, his arm playfully threaded the back of Osamu’s hair. Osamu was looking out at the window and Suna did the same. Buildings covered in bright signs, billboards of MSBY selling activewear clothes, another of a famous idol looking distinguished with a can of overpriced coffee, more signs, a huge TV with idols singing and dancing. Tokyo neon blur by and Osamu thought it was beautiful. He looked at the neon going by then shifted his attention to look over Suna, a view worth more than this neon city. Suna noticed this and stared back at him.

“I don’t want to go yet.” Suna said and abruptly stopped playing with Osamu’s hair. 

“I know. I don’t want to either.”

They stare at each other longer, not really saying anything. Suna broke the contact first and looked straight ahead at the taxi’s windshield. Suna found his hand with Osamu’s this time. Osamu hummed along softly, barely there, to the song playing in the taxi’s stereo. It was playing music from the radio station that he likes. The song goes in a slow mellow groove. The male vocals sang something about really wanting to get together with his significant other and just having fun times, something Osamu would like to have.

“What’s the song called?” Suna asked Osamu, his eyes still transfixed forward.

“Dozing Off.” Osamu resumed his soft humming and not so long after, he shook his shoulder to get Suna’s attention. He pointed out at his window to which Suna simply tilted his neck to look at whatever Osamu was pointing at. “Look it’s ya.” Suna gave him the usual endearing annoyed look.

“Hello.” Osamu waved his hand at Suna and pinched his nose.

“I am here.” Suna complained but eventually mellowed out with a soft smile and leaned his head at Osamu again. It was really not a comfortable position but Osamu nonetheless loves the familiarity of it. 

Osamu found himself again staring at the side of his window. He saw a billboard of a pineapple drink, a tropical setting in the background. A picturesque view of the sea, giant waves and surfers, palm trees, hibiscus and a tall glass of pineapple juice. It would be nice if he could get off this neon city once in a while. Anywhere with Suna would be nice.

* * *

“Strawberry?” Osamu asked Suna who just woke up.

“Sun-ripened strawberry.” Suna confirms Osamu’s suspiciousness of the smell coming from Suna’s hair. He likes it.

“Mind if I confess somethin’ right now?”

Suna takes off his eyes from the travel catalog he is reading and looks at him. “What is it?” he replies.

“Yer hotel shampoo phase was so gross to be honest.”

Suna rolls his eyes as a reply as if he didn’t know already about that. Osamu laughs at this. Suna goes back to reading the travel catalog. “I am hungry.” Suna complains.

“Want d’ya want?” 

“Onigiri Miya’s miso paste onigiri.” Suna answers.

* * *

“What’s wrong with the miso paste onigiri?” Suna asked.

“There’s nothin’ wrong with it.” Osamu replied. “Be careful!” Osamu quickly reacted and positioned himself to support Suna’s arms so he wouldn't completely trip. 

Suna looked down at his own feet and let out an exasperated grunt. “What’s wrong?” Before Osamu could even get a reply, he held Suna’s wrist and dragged him to move a little bit aside. He slightly bowed his head at the group of people behind them since they were blocking their way.

“I think my sandal’s straps are gonna snap any minute now.” Suna held on to Osamu’s arms to support himself and lifted his foot to remove his sandal. He inspected them for a while then returned wearing them again.

“Well it was yer idea to wear traditional clothes today for a hike.” Osamu offered his arms and Suna obliged. They continued walking the narrow path, surrounded by red maple leaves, towards the summit of the shrine. 

“Rude. You’re supposed to offer me a piggyback ride or your sandals or something.” 

“I packed shoes in case of emergency though.”

Suna looked at Osamu in disbelief. A ‘ _ no way’ _ look reflected in his eyes. Suna eyed the backpack slung on Osamu’s shoulder. Spending time with Kita-san at his farm has gotten to him. He unconsciously picked up a few habits from his senior, not that it was a bad thing though. It was actually nice to get your life and shit together.

“You know, you’re becoming such a husband material these days.” Suna confessed.

“Ya only noticed these days?”

“Oh shut up. By the way, the miso paste onigiri. Why are there so many of them always left?” They were holding each other's hands at that point, walking the part of Fushimi Inari Taisha with stone and age washed columns. Stone fox statues dominate the place in contrast with the vermillion colored torii gates from earlier views and sightings, signalling the way close to the summit.

“Why d’ya keep askin’ so many questions?” Osamu suspiciously asked.

To which Suna replied defensively, “I only asked one question, Osamu.”, with a rigid expression.

“No, what I meant is, you kept on askin’ me random questions since earlier.”

“Something wrong with it?”

There was nothing wrong with it. Osamu just felt that they were forcing conversations unto themselves. Not just today but for quite some time now. Talking was never their thing and it worked that way for years but somehow they found themselves compelled in trying to engage in meaningless conversations. Silence, for the both of them, was comfortable until awkward silence became a code for:  _ we’re not the same anymore. _

“It’s just weird.” Osamu said, a half-lie. 

Suna let go of his hand and faced him. He reached out his hand to, in what it seems, touch Osamu’s hair. It was only a brief moment, Osamu’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “A leaf.” Suna held out an orange leaf in front of him.

“Sappy.” 

“Answer my question. I genuinely want to know.” Suna found his hands intertwined with Osamu’s again.

“I don’t know? Maybe customers just prefer the others but there’s absolutely nothin’ wrong with my miso paste onigiri.” Osamu gave him a genuine reply.

“Let me try them next time.”

“Got it.” he said in affirmation. 

“Ah we’re here. 233 meter summit.” Suna announced. Indeed they have reached the 233 meter summit of Mt. Inari. They turned their backs to admire the overlooking panoramic view of Kyoto. 

“Why are we here again?” he asked, adjusting the straps of his backpack.

“To thank the gods for Onigiri Miya Kyoto branch, for good luck for my next week’s match, to buy Kita-san a souvenir,” Suna cited one by one on his fingers, “and a charm for your new shop and because you missed me and wanna spend time with me.” He stuck his tongue out at Osamu.

“Shouldn’t it be the other way around?”

And it’s weird but his feelings for Suna still remained all the same. 

“Let’s draw fortune papers later.” Osamu turned his back at the panoramic view and pointed at the right side beyond the shrine.

“You and Atsumu always get the bad ones.”

“And Kita-san would always tell us off. ‘Ya create-

“-yer own destiny. The results of the things that ya do are the fortune that the gods bestow upon us.’” Suna cut off his sentence only to finish it imitating their senior’s voice. They stared at each other for a brief second trying to piece together what just happened. They dissolved into fits of laughter as they made their way at the top. 

It was always easy to talk about the things that happened in their past. It was the most natural conversation for them.  _ We don’t need memories _ is probably something opposed to their ever nostalgic minds. Their past memories felt like it will never overwrite the memory of their constant, unceasingly and distant present.

“Kita-san still terrifies me.”

“I know.” Suna agreed.

“Maybe we should also wish for somethin’ while we’re at it.” Osamu remembered the wooden fox-shaped wishing plaques earlier.

“Like what?” 

Osamu kept the wish to himself.

* * *

“Hey Samu.”

Osamu replies only with a hum. This time he’s the one trying to sleep, eyes closed and head on Suna’s shoulder.

“On a weekend morning do you, A.) Scroll in your phone and get out of bed only when you feel like you’re hungry already or, B.) Go to the bathroom to brush your teeth and wash your face.” Osamu tries to keep up with Suna’s questions as Suna’s low voice lulls him to sleep. There was a brief pause and Suna complaining because he can’t turn the page. 

“Or C.) You go straight to the kitchen for coffee fix and breakfast?”

“C.” Osamu replies lazily.

“I know.”

“Then why d’ya still ask?”

“Just to be sure since I don’t really stay much in the morning with you.” Suna says and Osamu can feel the bitter aftertaste when the words slipped off Suna’s tongue.

“It says here that,” Suna resumes, dismissing the awkward atmosphere, “ if you mostly picked letter C, then you’re mostly likely to be lazy at sex.” Suna tells him as his voice was decreasing to a whisper, his lips closer to his ears. 

“I only answered one letter C though.” Osamu says in an equally low voice.

“I filled in the other questions for you.”

Osamu pries his eyes open and sees Suna reading a tacky magazine that he bought from the airport earlier.  _ There’s no wifi on flight, _ Suna reasoned with him. “And what’s yer result anyway?” he asks and tugs the magazine Suna is holding in his direction.

“A, the initiator.” Suna beams proudly. 

“Shouldn’t it be the other way around?”

* * *

“Another one?” Suna asked and Osamu instinctively opened his mouth as Suna fed him another sour gummy worm.

They were watching some comedy sitcom, munching on sour gummy worms on the sofa of a hotel room. Another hotel room, never-ending hotel rooms that became Suna and Osamu rendezvous. Suna’s head was resting on Osamu’s thighs. It’s kind of far from  _ normal _ but Osamu thinks it’s  _ familiar _ . It was definitely their thing from high school; sprawled on the floor, watching recorded volleyball tapes and eating convenience store food or food stolen from Atsumu.

“Hey.” Osamu said, his voice soft and low.

“Hello.” 

“My thighs are getting numb with your head on it too long.” 

Suna only replied with a mumble, which sounds suspiciously like “weak”, and so Suna shifted and pushed his upper body up with a hand on Osamu’s thigh. The pressure is uncomfortable, Suna was not holding himself back. Osamu didn’t mind anyway. He didn’t say anything and simply watched Suna sit up, and so Suna found no need or want to speak either. Osamu blinked once, twice with confusion, and finally Suna broke the silence by moving forward and pressing his lips against him. 

Instantly, their mouths moved against each other elegantly, as if they were dancing to a silent melody that can also be their hearts pounding against their chests, Osamu felt like he's lit on fire. He could taste sweet, he could taste sour, he could taste Suna.

Suna climbed on Osamu’s lap, his arms thrown around Osamu’s neck. Osamu immediately held onto his hips under his shirt, his thumbs rubbing at the smooth skin there. Osamu’s tongue licked into Suna's mouth and his fingers touched just the right spots that got Suna losing control. Suna held onto him a bit tighter, dipped his head deeper into the ecstasy that is Osamu’s lips, tilted his head for a better angle. Suna’s slim fingers found Osamu’s hair, playing with the dark strands while Osamu nibbled on his lip, drawing soft sighs from Suna’s mouth. Suna pressed closer to him, parting his lips and moaning as Osamu pushed up against his tongue. 

Suna rolled his hips up a little tentatively, and groaned into the corner of Osamu’s lips, smiling cheekily when he let out a similar sound and repeated the motion. Suna broke the kiss, only to latch onto the skin beneath his jawline leading to his shoulders, and as Suna’s lips trailed down, his hand came up and pulled at the low cut shirt to reveal a bit of collarbone. Suna began to lick and nip at his collarbone, creating marks with a variety of darkness and lightness to them.

At some point, Suna was the first one to pull back to catch his breath. He met Osamu’s dark blown pupils and Osamu thought about how he wanted to stay like this a little longer. 

“How about tomorrow?” Suna said with his swollen lips. “I can make time.” He reasoned before Osamu crashed their lips together again as a response that doesn’t really answer the question.

Osamu wished they could have all the time in the world.

* * *

“By the way, Atsumu told me this days ago.”

Osamu turns his head to listen to Suna who is currently munching on sour gummy worms, a pair of headphones plugged on his ears. 

“He told me to buy him Kona coffee. I think it’s some expensive local coffee or something.” Suna says and licks the sugar from his fingers.

“But Tsumu do-”

“-n’t drink coffee.” Suna finishes his sentence. Suna turns his head to meet his gaze, removes the headphones from his ears and turns serious. “I think it’s for Sakusa.”

“Oh gross.”

“They are too in love with each other. Gross.” Suna agrees. 

* * *

Osamu woke up instantaneously when the alarm blared too loud for 7:00 in the morning. He rolled over the bed and found the space next to him cold and empty. He sat up and scanned the room still heavy-eyed. He fixed his gaze at his own luggage and discarded clothes on the floor.  _ Left already _ , the thought crossed his mind. He stretched his body like a cat and grunted. He dropped down again at the bed and stared at the ceiling of another hotel room.

Unwillingly he reached out for his phone and dialed the usual contact.

“Hello my dear brother, miss me?” the usual annoying voice beamed at him.

“No.” 

“Then I am endin’ this call.” Atsumu’s voice dropped low and cold. “Bye.”

“No ya won’t do that.” 

Because they know each other like the back of each other’s hand. “So, what is it? The usual?” Atsumu said on the static line, the usual. “I am guessin’ there’s no development?”

“No.”

“Ya guys are sooo weird. You two won’t even mutter a single word for hours and call it ‘comfortable’ but then sometimes you two also feel like y’all supposed and obligated to talk? And when the both of ya talk, it turns awkward or sappy! You and Sunarin already know that-”, Atsumu was getting frustrated on the other line. “that you guys just need to talk this specific thing out.”

“It’s not just that ya know.” Osamu complained to the modern unlit ceiling lights above him.

“Yeah yeah because you guys are gross, yearnin’ and too in love.”

“It’s hard because both of us are constantly movi-

“Hey Miya.”

“Is that?” Osamu suspiciously asked.

“Kiyoomi? Yeah.”  _ Ah gross.  _ “What were ya sayin’ again?” his brother casually urged him to continue.

“Nevermind.”

“Yeah I know it’s hard because you guys are constantly movin’ around because of yer jobs.” Atsumu said as if reading his mind. 

“Hey Miya, I said it’s time to get up.” He heard another muffled voice that was supposed to be the voice of the cousin of Suna’s friend and Atsumu’s... _ something _ . 

“Ya heard him! We need to go now!”

After strings of never ending ‘I am going to hang up now’, the usual reminders and teasings, the call ended. Osamu threw his phone somewhere in his bed, he rolled over and buried his face in a pillow. He thought about what he and Atsumu talked about. Well, there was nothing new anyway.

One day maybe they’ll find the courage to talk about it.

* * *

“Hey Osamu.”

Osamu hums, feigning to be asleep as Suna’s fingers cards through his hair. The whole airplane strangely feels quiet. He only hears his own breathing and the way Suna brushes his hair with his long slim fingers.

“Live with me.”

Idyllic uncanny decisions but Osamu and Suna can be simple like that.

“Let's look for one when we’re back. Somewhere close to the train station, somewhere between close to our respective workplaces. Then let’s talk, a really good and looong talk.”

Osamu only replies with a: “Yeah, let’s do that.” It felt like exhaling after years of holding his breath because they knew they had put it off for too long. Osamu can finally smile contentedly, knowing everything is alright after what feels like an age.

* * *

Suna’s match ended at 9pm. Take for instance, a 40 minute time to rest, eat for a while and preparation for leaving. Plus a 40 minute train ride and a no more than 15 minutes walk from the station to his shop. Suna was supposed to arrive at 10:30pm or so. Osamu being worried as hell was an overstatement. Did Suna forget? No, that’s impossible. Did something happen? No, Osamu mentally scolded himself for thinking such things. 

The miso paste onigiri that Osamu prepared for Suna has gotten cold. Osamu has lost count on how many times he repeated his cleaning routine. He’s tempted to finish the bottle of champagne Kita-san never fails to give everytime he opens a new branch. He held off the thought of it and insisted that he and Suna should share the last drops of it, so he waited. But Suna’s not replying to any of his messages or hasn’t picked up for his phone since the EJP’s match started. He had seen it broadcasted on the television of his shop. It was an important match for EJP and they barely made it but Suna made that one killer block and won.  _ My boyfriend did that _ , he accidentally slipped out of character to one of his part-timers earlier. 

Osamu was sitting at one of the wooden stools at the customer’s counter. He was having a staring competition with the Maneki Neko in front of him. It was a congratulatory gift Suna got him before opening this branch. So far the Maneki Neko was winning their game. Their game got interrupted when Osamu’s phone buzzed beside him. The buzz caught him off guard and broke the eye contact between him and the ceramic lucky cat.

“Rin! Where-”

“I…” Osamu heard an erratic breathing from the other line. Suna sounded like he was catching his breath. “I might not make it, Samu.” Suna lamented on the other line. “Didn’t make it to the last train.” he explained.

“Where are ya right now?” Osamu asks.

“Just exited the station. I’ll look for a taxi.”

“No!” Osamu exclaimed and was taken aback. “Just… just go back to the hotel you guys are stayin’ at.”

“They hold me off at the after party. I wasn’t able to sneak out...”

Osamu heard static noises of cars zooming past on the other line.  _ Ya win this time _ , Osamu telepathically said to the lucky cat in front of him. The figurine only gave him the same sly smile. 

“Osamu?”

The silence stretches for half a minute before Osamu could utter a reply back to Suna. Osamu felt stupid and selfish. _ Come on, say something _ , he mentally nudged himself.

“Osamu talk to me.” 

“Congratulations. The last block was amazin’.” Osamu forced the conversation.

Suna was amazing out there. It was not a surprise that everyone in that party wanted Suna to stay and celebrate. Osamu almost forgot about this fact: the fact that everyone wants a piece of Suna. Suna is always somewhere. The kilometers distance eats up their time together. A voice at the back of his head wants to be selfish and keep Suna all for himself. Osamu doesn’t entirely understand. He never really grasped the concept to entirely understand things like this- feelings. He wants to be selfish might have been the current concern of his life. 

“Talk to me about something else?” 

Osamu laid his head on the wooden countertop, his head tilted, facing the Maneki Neko. He tapped the screen of his phone and set it to loudspeaker mode. “I wonder if Kita-san would even get married.” Osamu thought about their senior who dropped by earlier.

“If Kita-san remains single for the rest of his life, it’s your and Atsumu’s fault. He dotes too much on the both of you.”

“Jealous?”

“Maybe.”

“Remember when I thought ya liked Kita-san back then?” He asked, suddenly remembering an incident when they were high school. 

“Well, that was only half-true and you liked Kita-san as well.”

“We all had a Kita-san phase.” Osamu heard a laugh on the other line and he felt his chest welling up with emotions. He just wanted to hear that laugh all the time. 

“And Oomimi-san.” Suna added.

“Nope, it was only ya.”

“Yeah I guess, because I am an original.”

“See ya on the holidays?” Osamu asked and counted the weeks on his head. Holidays still have long weeks to go. 

“Of course... Where are you?”

“Still here.” Osamu’s eyes wandered around the empty shop. He tried to picture the door chiming, welcoming Suna. Suna would sit in this counter and Osamu would sit opposite him, face to face by the kitchen. The radio would be playing songs from Osamu’s favorite station. They would ask each other about their day more naturally, an unforced conversation.

“You? Where are you?” Osamu asked.

He heard Suna take a sharp inhale followed by an obvious tired sigh. “Some bench outside a pet shop.”

“Go back to your own hotel, dummy.”

“Same to you.”

Osamu figured he should start wrapping things up. He tapped the Maneki Neko’s head as if he’s bidding a farewell.  _ Thank you for your hard work.  _ He sat up and positioned back the stool where it rightfully belonged. 

“Hey Samu.”

Osamu only hummed in response. He was just standing there, looking at the display photo of Suna’s contact. It was a photo of Suna with sleep mussed hair taken in Suna’s room back in Hyogo. 

“Let’s go somewhere for the holidays.”

“Yeah let’s do that.” Silence enveloped the time for a few seconds except for Suna’s faint breathing on the other line, a reminder that love is not always entirely and literally  _ here  _ all the time. 

“Anywhere with you is good.” Suna said and Osamu wholeheartedly agreed.

“Sappy.”

* * *

Suna’s twisting his torso side by side, trying to get rid of his sore back. He then stretches out his arm in front of him. “We should totally go bar hopping on our first night.” he declares. 

“Yeah and Komori would totally have my head once we’re back in Japan.” Osamu says wincing at the thought of that time when Suna showed up at EJP’s practice with a bad hangover after a night drinking with him. Osamu was flooded with messages of ‘your boyfriend threw up in my car’, ‘what do i do?’ and ‘is he gonna be okay if i leave him for 10mins?’ from an unknown number that turned out to be Komori’s.

“Not if I don’t post or send any photos.” Suna shifts his seat and tries to get comfortable with the position again.

“Smart.”

* * *

“Truth or dare?” Suna asked, laughing in victory again in their drunken ‘hand-slap-but-make-it-truth-or-dare’ game. Osamu doesn’t remember what prompted them to play a silly game. Cans of Sapporo beer filled the messy narrow counter without a care. Osamu’s probably gonna regret all these drinks tomorrow but dismissed the thought of it immediately when he and Suna can have all the time together tonight.

“Dare.” Osamu responded without hesitation anymore. 

Suna sounded impressed with his confidence this time. “Ok, I dare you to tell me the truth.” 

“Truth or dare doesn’t work that way.” He reasoned with him.

“What kind of unwritten rule is that anyway?” 

“Why are we playin’ this anyway?”

“Because we’re drunk.” 

“Nope. Yer the only one who’s drunk.” Osamu flicked Suna’s forehead and Suna winced from the contact.

“Unbelievable. I'm not drunk.”

“Yet.” 

“Alright I dare you to take me somewhere else next time.”

“Where?” 

“Hhhmmm…”

Suna looked around the shop. Suna closed his eyes, a sigh caught up in the soft hum of his voice. Osamu waited and stared at Suna who was trying his best to think in his drunken state. The radio pulsated faintly in the backdrop, playing another 4/4 beat old city pop song from a specific station that Osamu likes. Osamu’s mind wandered to focus and pay attention to the soft rock music to keep himself from the sluggish feeling. Maybe he’s a bit drunk as well. 

From the funky dynamic bassline, the consistent beat thumping, the melody and harmony that goes in layers- the song suddenly faded into just ukulele and steel strings. Suna kept his eyes closed, Osamu wondered if he already fell asleep. The singer sang a single line about Hanalei and the song originally went back to its original pop sound. The male singer continues to sing about a long distance love affair. It was interesting. Suna opened his eyes at last.

“Hawaii?” he said.

“Hawaii?!” Osamu blinked in surprise from Suna’s random thought. 

“Hawaii.” Suna only nods in confirmation. “Whatever, anywhere with you is good.”

“Sappy.” 

* * *

“You know, I didn’t know you were serious about this trip until I saw you running late at the airport.” Suna straightens his shirt before putting back on his coat. 

“Excuse me, I was plannin’ for this trip for years.” Osamu hands him his carry on backpack from the overhead bin. They’re about to leave the airplane.

Suna slips on his backpack and gives Osamu a hand hauling out their things. “I was really out of my mind when I said I want to go here though.”

“I know.” 

Osamu knew because Suna hates the sun. He hates summer seasons because it makes him feel sticky. Suna hates swimming, feigning sickness every swimming class. He hates going to beach trips, or at least he prefers staying in the umbrella shade with his ice pops. He’s a mountain kind of person. Suna likes visiting shrines because it makes him do nothing but just walk and talk. Osamu could probably go on with a list but he keeps the thought to himself. 

“Hey Samu.” Suna calls his attention.

“What?”

“I am glad we still went on this trip.”

“I am glad to hear that.”

“Hey Samu.” Suna calls his attention again by his name weighted with soft vowels and gentleness, as he always does. “I really like you a lot.”

Osamu tries not to snicker a laugh because that's all he can care to manage, the tension in his body melting away. Being together makes him feel the luxury of being at ease.

“Stop laughing.”

“I am not laughing.”

“I just felt like saying it.” Suna reasons with him because he can be simple like that.

_ (What Suna meant: I really love you a lot) _

* * *

He saw Suna at the gate, waiting for him. _ Idiot, I told him to go ahead already _ , Osamu found himself smiling at the thought of the two of them possibly missing the flight. Strangely he felt alright with that idea. Osamu made it by the hair. He stopped in front of Suna. Exhausted, put his hands on his knees. His 4/5 stamina is ineffective in the moment. Suna knocked off the cap he is wearing. He waved his hand in front of his face and greeted him with a  _ ‘hello’ _ . 

Suna ruffled his hair before putting back his cap. “Doesn’t smell like lemons.” he noted.

Osamu adjusted the cap properly on his head. “Ran out and used hotel shampoo.”

“Gross.”

“I know.”

They got on the moving walkway and it moved just moderately. There’s something weird and strange about the fact that Osamu doesn't wish for time anymore. A deep sense of ambiguity and paradox filled his thoughts. He found it strangely alright with it, feels like a transition to something else. Even though the reason for this trip feels a bit dreadful to look at. They stood there facing each other, their hands holding the handle of their respective luggages, the other hand clutching on their boarding pass and passport.

“Excited?” Osamu asked Suna. 

“I just wanna doze off the whole flight.” 

“You’re here.” 

“I am here.”

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> thank you for making this far. i hope you liked it! comments are kudos are very much appreciated ;u; check out my [carrd](https://3838-07734.carrd.co)  
> for more info abt this fic and others. i talk a lot about my works. 
> 
> also haha so,,. *sweats* i haven't read the last two chaps of hq yet so i deleted twt app for a while. 
> 
> -rin <3


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